The Weight of Water

The river does not care for the structures we build above it. It moves with a cold, singular purpose, indifferent to the steel and stone that attempt to pin it down. We stand on the banks and watch the reflections shatter, convinced that we are the masters of the current. But the water only holds our image for a moment before it flows away, taking the light with it. There is a quiet violence in this constant departure. We build bridges to cross over, to escape the depth, to reach the other side where we imagine things might be different. Yet, the river remains the same. It carries the weight of the city, the heat of the day, and the slow, inevitable cooling of the evening. We are left only with the surface, a thin skin of color stretched over the dark. What remains when the lights finally go out?

Siew Bee Lim has taken this image titled Elgin Bridge. It captures the city as it pauses between the day and the dark. Does the river look back at us, or are we merely shadows passing over its back?